


I'm stuck in the dark, but you're my flashlight

by Nonameyet



Category: Monsta X (Band), NU'EST, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Baekho is a security man, Death, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Date, Grieving Min Yoongi, Hurt Min Yoongi | Suga, Hurt comfort au, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jeon Jungkook & Park Jimin are Childhood Friends, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope & Min Yoongi | Suga are Best Friends, Jungkook is a security man, Late Night Conversations, Loss, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Mentioned Yoo Kihyun, Min Yoongi drowns his sorrows by drinking, Min Yoongi gets drunk, Min Yoongi is a CEO, Min Yoongi is in agony, Min Yoongi refuses to discuss his feelings, Park Jimin (BTS) is a Sweetheart, Park Jimin and Lee Hoseok / Wonho are good friends, Park Jimin comforts Min Yoongi, Park Jimin cuts Yoongi off, Park Jimin is a bartender, Park Jimin is a dance instructor, Park Jimin works two jobs, Widower Min Yoongi, Wonho is a security man, Yoo Kihyun died, Yoongis husband died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonameyet/pseuds/Nonameyet
Summary: Jimin was living his best life, running the bar he dreamed about ever since graduating highschool, teaching two dancing classes in the afternoon and having the best employees he could ask for.That is, until this overall remarkable man starts showing up, every night.Drowning his sorrows, radiating agony.Jimin wants to help.
Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	I'm stuck in the dark, but you're my flashlight

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up feeling like I had to write something heartbreaking.  
> So, I did what was best:  
> Baked some cookies to get through this, started writing and now it's 3AM.
> 
> and, for the first time, here's a playlist for the right mood:
> 
> _  
> [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2t2MrmG4yQ45SjFD414lAo?si=rqWI18mbSu2FS3fWiu-hww)  
>  _

_[moodboard](https://twitter.com/tbhme01/status/1244291635946696704?s=21) _

„Is there any chance I can get your number, pretty thing?”, slurred a rather raspy voice to Jimin, who was currently wiping the counter down. Jimin laughed loudly in response.

“No, sorry man. But there’s a good chance I’ll get you some water to sober up a bit, huh? How does that sound?”, Jimin looks up to smile at the man, who was a regular at the bar he worked in, Minsoo his name.

“Ugh, I’d prolly… I’d prefer getting you in bed to be quite honest.”, grins Minsoo now, the grin spreading through his face, half-lidded eyes giving away how drunk he was.

“No chance”, laughed Jimin in response, already passing Minsoo his glass of water before moving on to another customer, who just happened to sit down.

He got used to the flirts of drunk men at night, never actually taking them seriously. It was nice to get complimented, he did not feel uncomfortable, knowing there was Jeongguk, his Security man, if any customer decided to be rude.

Jimin smiled at the new customer, a man he has seen four nights in a row.

He never really looked at Jimin for too long, always looking down at his hands, just getting shitfaced until Jimin cut him off.

Then, he would make his way out on wobbly legs, restraining from Jimin’s offer to call a taxi to get him home.

“Two tequila shots, one beer please.”, grumbled the man.

He looked like he was Jimin’s age, but the everlasting sulky and frowning expression on his face made him look so, so much older.

This man looked sad, manifestly drowning his sorrows in liquor.

“Sure thing.”, smiled Jimin, quickly getting his hands on the order.

He wondered what this man was running away from.

The man sat in the exact same position as every night, legs spread, and head supported by his arms, elbows propped up on the counter, eyes down on the shot glasses Jimin was placing in front of him just now.

“Here you go.”, Jimin put a drip mat down, placing the tall beer glass on top.

The man tossed ten dollars in Jimin’s direction, mumbling “Keep the change.”, before pulling his arms back, only one hand keeping him steady as he quickly downs the Tequila shots.

“Thank you”, Jimin left then. Leaving the man alone, he knew that this man was not in the mood to talk, having tried to build up a conversation with him once before.

Jimin carried on with his work. He served other guests, laughed loudly at jokes, flirts and ridiculous conversations between the drunk people at the cracker-barrel.

Maybe half an hour later, the sulky man searched for Jimin’s attention again, asking for a refill. Jimin did just that, once again receiving too much money with the plead to keep the change.

Jimin did, still, feel sorry for this man. Whatever he was going through, it must be tough. Jimin wished he could help this man out, rather than be the one to serve him the alcohol all the time. Jimin did his job, clearly as he was a bartender, however, that did not mean he condoned with this possible alcoholism bubbling up.

Not even 15 minutes later, the man ordered again.

Refill. Ten dollars. Keep the change.

Jimin polished glasses, cleaning up the counter after customers left. Roaming around the bar, only just catching a glimpse of sulky man leaving for the bathroom, supporting his weight on the wall to get there.

Jimin frowned, mentally noting that he had to cut him off for the night. It was way past two AM anyway, he bet that his wife was worried for him.

He did not necessarily know that this man had a wife to come home to, just guessed based on the neighborhood, a very conservative but tolerating society, plus his regulars all came here to escape unhappy marriages. Jimin had held various therapeutic conversations, offering help, just to receive a ‘No, thank you’, before people left.

He made the experience that people who were talking seriously about their problems, when they got drunk, did not want any help. Mostly, they were lonely and needed someone to listen.

Jimin was willing to do that, it was one part of his job he loved the most. Real, honest, raw conversations about the harsh truth of life. He came out of nights feeling more grateful for the things he had when he woke up around noon, every day. Given what he had talked about with customers. Lost family members, jobs, marriages, custody, pets, heartbreak. All that.

Jimin was chilling behind de counter, quickly checking his phone as sulky man sat down again, looking up at Jimin.

“I guess it’s time to go home, isn’t it?”, asks Jimin with an encouraging smile, tilting his head a little.

The man held Jimin’s stare off for a little, sighed and nodded before getting up.

“No one to pick you up tonight?”, asks Jimin, his phone put aside and just about to grab the man’s arm to steady him on his way out.

The man halted, shaking his head as his breath hitched, not moving a single inch.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrow as he shakes the man’s shoulder lightly.

“You alright, man?”, only then realizing that the rather skinny man was, in fact, crying.

Jimin’s eyes widened.

The man was not crying out loud, not a single whimper leaving his mouth, just quiet sobs rocking his body, making his knees buckle in weakness.

“O-Oh... Wait, come, sit down.”, Jimin gathers all the strength he has left after working two jobs today, helping the man sit down on a bench, crouching in front of him.

Jimin’s sight ached his heart, he really had no clue what was going on, but he felt the agony surrounding this man’s broken heart. He really must have faced a terrible thing, breaking him to his very core, to be crying so utterly atrocious it actually hurt to watch.

“Do you want to talk? Is there anything I can do for you?”, Jimin placed his hand encouragingly on the raven haired man’s shoulder, who just shook his head, breath hitching once again before he wiped his tears away weakly, trembling arm coming up to wipe over his face, irritating the sensitive skin.

Jimin jumps back in surprise when the man suddenly stands up, making him fall flat on his ass, the man apologizing with a hoarse “Sorry” before rushing out of the door.

Jimin needs a second to comprehend what had just happened, but he gets up eventually and returns to his place behind the counter.

“This was weird.”, mumbles Jimin to nobody but himself as he gathers the empty glasses of sulky man, washing them right away.

The night carries on as if the skinny, raven-haired man had never appeared in the first place, except for the lasting feeling in Jimin’s stomach. A little twisted something making him feel uncomfortable, even letting him worry about the man’s whereabouts and if he would eventually see him again, if there was a chance he could get to talk with the man.

He had rarely seen someone so utterly depressed, honestly.

Jimin later on murmurs a quiet ‘good night’ to his colleague as he closes the bar, making his way home at four AM, thoughts still sometimes drifting to the man.

He fell asleep with his gut telling him that he should start to make friends with the man, given that he would return to the bar.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jimin gets through the next day like every other day. He wakes up, showers and has a meal before heading to his dance class.

Being the teacher of a ballet class for boys of the age from 10 to 14, plus another class of Zumba for women of all ages, you can guess how much he needs the nap he usually takes before heading for his nighttime job.

He gets roughly two and a half hours of sleep before trotting to the bar, being the only bartender at the moment, given that their last one left due to sickness, he was left with working every night shift for now. Not that it was too crucial, after all this was something he dreamed about ever since graduating high school. He wanted to run a bar.

He has two security men employed, one being his childhood friend Jeongguk and another one being a previous classmate. Hoseok Lee, a bulky man with a sweet soul.

Said man was greeting him at the door when Jimin pulled around the corner, key in his hands, fumbling around to get the door open.

“Good evening, Jimin.”, smiles Hoseok, better known as Seokie to Jimin.

“Evening, Seokie. Ready for another night of drunk people?”, he laughs as he finally manages to force the old lock open, mentally noting he should get a new one, soon.

“Ready for another night of random old men flirting with you?”, he laughs as well, as he follows Jimin inside, who closes the door behind them as Hoseok goes on ahead to their staff room.

“I sure am.”, agrees Jimin as he places his bag down.

“Still don’t get how you endure that, grosses me out.”

“You gotta stop being so narrow minded then, Seokie.”, laughs Jimin in return, starting to style his hair.

“What does that have to do with being narrow minded?”, asks Hoseok in confusion.

“Instead of thinking that those old men are pedophile bastards, you need to think that they are lonely, unhappy, miserable and in need of something to make them reckless and young again. They mean no harm, they seek youth and freedom.”, explains Jimin, carefreely tossing his shirt to the ground, changing clothes in front of his friend.

Hoseok was straight, anyway. Jimin was not. Thus, they had zero boundaries when it came to being physically close or undressed, everything was platonic, no matter how in love they would seem to someone not understanding the platonic form of love, physical and literal.

“Still fucking disturbing to me. I wouldn’t manage to take compliments on my well-trained arse from any mid-forty old sac.”

Jimin laughed then, fully throwing his body forward and crouching down, stomping his hands on the ground to not fall over, Hoseok joining in, sitting down on a chair as he laughs whole-heartedly, the conversations just too ridiculous.

When they eventually stopped laughing, Jimin wiping his tears, he answers: “Well, at least someone’s appreciating it, y’know.”

Hoseok chuckles as he slides his jacket on, the fabric stiff around his muscular arms.

“Still don’t get how you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Jimin stared at Hoseok’s muscular back, admiring the view. He had a thing for Hoseok’s body, nothing weird – Hoseok knew, Jimin had told him this before but swore he’d never think of it as anything sexual, just wanted to look and admire – then carried on to swing his apron over, tying it around his waist.

“Well, you know, I may happen to attract forty-year-old sacs, but not those hotter, younger ones like you.”, he winks as Hoseok shoots him a dirty look, soon enough laughing at his friend.

Hoseok then setting his headset up, little speaker into his ear and microphone attached to his collar, tossing Jimin his very own one. Jimin had those just in case, he purchased them after a fight had taken place, two men throwing hands and somehow ending up behind the counter, trapping Jimin inside. It had taken Jeongguk a customer to run and get him to notice. Jimin wasn’t keen on experiencing this again.

“Maybe if you were to wear something more revealing you’d get someone, Minnie.”, says Hoseok as he watches Jimin smooth his apron down, waiting for his okay to open the bar for the night.

“Ah, I think I’m good. Thanks for the advice though, I’ll come back to it.”, he laughs as he places the chairs down, quickly placing menus on the tables before giving Hoseok a thumb up.

“You can open.”

“Good. See you for your break, then.”, smiles Hoseok as he leaves to sit in front of the door, checking customers IDs (if necessary) and their condition, regarding alcohol and drug use.

“If I need one”, calls Jimin and leaves to work behind the counter, unloading the dishwasher.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The clock hit three AM when the sulky man came in, Jimin ready to take his order.

“Just… whatever, man. Make me drunk.”, huffs the man, barely keeping eye contact.

Jimin decides to mix a drink in front of him, for him to see and trying to make conversation, once again.

“You’re pretty late.”, comments Jimin, shortly looking up.

The man stares at him, then looks around the room. Jimin almost doesn’t catch the way he shrugs. Enough of an answer for him, he keeps going.

“I guess you don’t want to tell me why you come here, am I right?”

The man looks at him with a blank face, shaking his head in denial as his eyebrows twist together. It must upset him yet again, to think about the reason he comes in every night. It’s been a week, almost.

“Then we shall talk about something else. What’s your name?”

Jimin whips around to get a fistful of ice, throwing some fruits in the cocktail he’s mixing together, then he turns to the customer yet again.

“Why”, mutters the man, barely audible.

“I mean no harm, man. Just wanna talk, I get pretty lonely here, you know. It’s nice to have someone to talk. The other customers are too drunk to properly talk.”, huffs Jimin as he points to all kinds of people holding on to the furniture to get around.

Jimin is intentionally pulling the cause of his talkativeness on himself, he senses that the man would full on never talk to him again if he said it was because the man looked depressed, utterly broken and Jimin wanted to offer help. He senses that this man would get up, get running and never return. So, he had to try and make things work another way.

“Yoongi. I’m Yoongi.”, breathes the man, making Jimin smile brighter than ever. He’s cracked this shell of a broken man open. Maybe not fully, but there’s a beginning noticeable.

“Well, Yoongi, here you go. I hope you like this.”, he presents the raven-haired man his cocktail before hurrying off to another customer, who had been complaining about having to wait for some time now. Jimin would like to kick everybody out, have the opportunity to talk with Yoongi alone, but that would not pay his bills in the end.

He could not do that.

Jimin then returns, the man taking a sip of the cocktail after eyeing it suspiciously for a while.

“Is that coconut?”, grunts Yoongi, looking up to meet Jimin’s eyes for a second before looking down again.

“It is indeed.”

Yoongi makes a pained noise, takes a deep breath before talking with a shaky voice.

“Thanks, I’ve had enough. You were right, it is too late.”, he tosses ten dollars on the counter, then manages to get up and head out the door, leaving Jimin confused and speechless.

He is quick to grab the mic attached to his apron.

“Seokie, where did the man go that just left? In which direction?”

“Uh, he’s going down the little alley. Where the graveyard and the train station are. Why?”

Jimin hums. Graveyard or train station?

“Nothing, he just… he comes every night, I’m wondering who he is.”

“You’re always so interested in the customers. At least he’s your age, interested in more than one way?”, Hoseok sounds like he’s grinning cheekily.

“Shut up”, laughs Jimin and serves the remaining customers, slowly starting to clean the bar.

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Yoongi approaches the bar, he’s been visiting every night once again, he is met with an unfamiliar security man.

Yoongi comes to a stop, staring at the man who eyes him with a questioning face before Yoongi winces and backs out, stumbling backwards until he’s on the pavement again, legs running fast to get back to where he came from. His feet automatically steering him to the train station, he was fleeing once again.

This guy looked so much like him.

He looked just like him.

“There was just a man your age who looked at me, got spooked by my face and ran away to the train station. Am I that ugly?”, laughs Dongho.

“Wait, what kind of man? What did he look like?”, asks Jimin in all seriousness, pressing the headset closer to his ear to understand Dongho better.

It was Dongho’s first night, he’s on trial work.

“Uhm, he was very skinny, looked tired to me. Black hair, black coat and black boots. I guess it was better for him to go home, anyway.”

Jimin was somewhat worried. It had to be Yoongi. Why did he run away?

“Maybe you are ugly after all.”, smirks Jimin.

“Park Jimin, I appreciate your honesty.”, grunts Dongho, laughing lightly.

“Kang Dongho, you are very welcome.”, says Jimin in a sarcastic tone before returning to work.

He notes to take Dongho into his team. They got along.

.

.

.

Yoongi does not return the following night, making Jimin, again, somewhat nervous.

Had the incident with Dongho make the other leave for good?

Would he avoid coming?

Jimin did not know what troubled him about the man, but Yoongi seemed so, so lost and Jimin could not help but want to provide, help and steady the man.

Jimin did not sleep this morning, after returning at five AM, instead he tried to figure out where and who Yoongi was.

Firstly who, just so he could get some sort of reference.

He tried by googling his name, the searching engine not helping that much.

He did find an Instagram account though, which did look convincing of belonging to the black haired, mysterious man, but he had to wait until the owner of the account accepted his request.

One way or another, Jimin cut his search off and tried to distract himself.

It wasn’t healthy to worry about a stranger, he told himself. Thus, he decided to prepare the next weeks’ worth of dancing classes, just so he could take his mind off of Yoongi.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The clock hit 11:30PM as Yoongi walked in, surprising Jimin in a good way.

“Yoongi.”, smiled Jimin to the other male as he sat down, actually greeting Jimin with a wave.

“How’s it going?”, asks Jimin, preparing a beer before passing it to Yoongi, who looks at it questioningly.

“I didn’t order-“

“I know, it’s on me. I’ve missed you yesterday, bud.”, Jimin leans on the counter, looking at Yoongi’s outfit.

Plain brown desert boots, black pants and a white button down. His black coat was trapped between his legs, resting on his lap.

Yoongi looks at him with a puzzled face.

“Where do you work, going around like that?”

“Tax accountant.”, murmurs Yoongi, taking another sip of his free beer.

“Oh, that sounds quite helpful. I might need one, just to overview what I can save as a bar owner, right?”, Jimin has the audacity to pick some random hair off Yoongi’s shoulder, the other stiffing up, following Jimin’s hand with his eyes.

“Mhm. I’ll give you my card.”

Yoongi actually snatches a little card from his pocket, tossing it in Jimin’s direction before looking down in his half empty glass.

“Min Yoongi.”, reads Jimin aloud.

“You have your own fucking company?”, stutters Jimin, bewilderedly.

“Uh, yeah. What’s the problem?”, Yoongi furrows his eyebrows.

Jimin wonders if it’s a habit, or if the man is just constantly stressed out.

“No, nothing, no problem, just… It’s not every day I have such a customer. Under these circumstances.”, he gestures to Yoongi’s body, to which the other man’s frown only intensifies.

“What do you mean?”, grunts Yoongi.

“You… uh, forget it. Let’s say, people who get shitfaced every night are mostly unemployed customers. I don’t say this to be rude or anything, it’s just that I can’t quite imagine you being fit to run a company every morning if you get drunk every night.”

Yoongi takes Jimin’s words in, hums along, seems like he agrees.

“I’m currently… in a special situation, making it totally unnecessary for me to leave the house or even show up at work. Therefore, I’m good to get shitfaced, as you call it, I appreciate your concern though. Now serve your other customers, before someone gets angry.”, he thumbs to other customers piling their empty glasses up on the counter out of boredom.

Jimin is conflicted, he never heard Yoongi talk so much, yet he finally had a confirmation that Yoongi was going through something. Maybe he went bankrupt? And that is why he does not have to show up at work? Jimin would prefer to ask Yoongi once he’s done serving the customers and cleaning the countertop off, but he’s gone once he returns to the place where the raven-haired man had been sitting previously. Ten dollars tucked under the glass.

Jimin felt disappointed, somehow.

He closed the bar earlier due to the fact that he didn’t sleep the previous night, he had the business card close to him the whole way home, placing it on his nightstand before hopping into bed.

He decided to call and make an appointment tomorrow.

**.**

**.**

**.**

He nervously wrings his fingers while he waits for the phone on the other side to be picked up, he stares at the business card intensely.

“Tax accountant Min Yoongi’s, his secretary Phomen Lisa talking, how can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah, hello, Park Jimin is my name. I was wondering if there was a chance to get to talk with Yoong- I mean Mister Min?”

“Uh, you mean right now or like an appointment?”

“Like, right now.”

“I’m afraid he is not available at the moment; he’s not working from the office these days. I can let him know you called and tell him you wish to talk to him, though?”

“That would be nice. You can include this number I called with, so he can call me back?”

“I’ll do that. What was your name again?”

“Park Jimin.”

“Okay, mister Park. I’ll let him know and he will call you as soon as he can, alright?”

“Yes, thank you very much. Have a good day.”

“You too”

Jimin places the phone down, heart still racing a bit, he hated talking on the phone.

He brushes his still wet hair back, looking at the clock – he still had some time before he had to leave.

So, he decides to go for an episode of his favorite series before heading out for his ballet class.

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Jimin spots Yoongi on his usual seat, he is a little relieved to find him there.

After serving some customers and ending a conversation with Minsoo, he makes his way over.

“Hey-“

“You called.”

“Yeah, I did that.”

“Is that your private number my secretary gave me?”

“It is actually, yeah. Don’t have a business phone or anything.”

Yoongi eyes him warily.

“Not even a house phone?”

“No, neither that.”, Jimin laughs at Yoongi’s confused expression.

“Welcome to my chaotic way of living, I don’t know where I’m going but I make the mess work and enjoy myself.”, he bows as he introduces himself sarcastically.

Yoongi actually bubbles up a laugh, chuckling still as Jimin catches the other shaking with laughter.

He feels proud of himself for making ‘sulky man’ laugh.

“I can see you living in a chaos.”, the other rasps, “My secretary told me you wanted to talk to me. But not as in appointment, but personally. Why?”, Yoongi looks up for once, meeting Jimin’s blue eyes with his dark, brown eyes. Jimin had a thing for brown eyes.

“Uh, just because. I want to get to know you.”, Jimin blushes a little, suddenly embarrassed by the fact that he called Yoongi’s work for that.

Yoongi tsks, then lays his phone down.

“You wouldn’t want to, not right now.”

“And why’s that?”

Yoongi shudders a little, looks like he’s encouraging himself to talk, his mouth opening and closing but nothing leaves his mouth just yet.

“You don’t have to-“, starts Jimin.

“My husband died a few weeks ago.”

It’s like the last candle in a dark room went out, like a shotgun in the depths of a deep forest. Like a cat screeching in the middle of the night, like something ripping a stack of paper apart in a room of utter silence.

Disturbing.

Jimin could not, no, he could have never been prepared for that.

It takes some minutes for him.

First: Oh, he said Husband. He’s gay.

Then: Holy fucking shit, his husband _died_

Jimin looked at Yoongi with a worried look on his face.

“Fucking hell.”, grunts Jimin.

“You wouldn’t wanna hear my condolences, I guess. But what I do offer you is free drinking, if that’s what you need right now.”

Jimin could care less if he loses some liquor to the man, it didn’t make that much of a difference.

Yoongi, tears in his eyes, actually chuckles.

“Yeah,”, he wipes his runny nose and blinks his tears away, “I could use some vodka tonight. Nothing with coconut though, it was his favorite.”

Jimin froze up, remembering the incident from the night in which he prepared him a cocktail with coconut.

“I’m sorry”, whispers Jimin in realization, visibly only now putting two and two together.

“You had no idea.”, assures Yoongi and winks Jimin off to get him something to drink.

Jimin was a little puzzled, tried to force all the thoughts away. He wasn’t only here for Yoongi, there were a couple of other customers to be served tonight, but he couldn’t help the fact that Yoongi had caught his attention.

Jimin placed the shot glasses in front of Yoongi, two of them and a whole bottle of vodka slammed next to them.

Yoongi looks at him dumbfoundedly as Jimin sits next to him.

“Jeongguk, can you take over for a second? I need a break.”

“Sure thing, bro.”

Jeongguk comes in, closes the door behind him to prevent new customers from coming in without him being able to check them.

He eyes Jimin curiously as he takes his apron, tucks himself in it.

“You good?”, he asks as he starts washing glasses.

“Yeah, I’ll spend my break with him. ‘S good.”

“‘kay then.”, Jeongguk leaves.

“You what?”, asks Yoongi as Jimin pours them shots.

“You know what?”, asks Jimin as he forces the glass in Yoongi’s hand and they both drink before Jimin continues talking.

“This may sound totally ridiculous, but since about the third night you came in, I started to wonder what brought you here. You looked so broken when you came.”, he downs another shot, trying to make his confidence a little more resistant, “I wondered what tore you up, that you came here every night to drink until I cut you off. Then, one night, I wanted to help you get out – I don’t know if you can remember – and you started crying, wouldn’t… just wouldn’t fucking talk to me. You never did. I tried to help you, I wanted to, but you never answered me.”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows, staring into his empty glass.

“Then, one night, you came but ran away before stepping in. I got worried you’d never return.”

Yoongi interrupts him.

“Your doorman, he looked like… like him.”, he pours himself another shot, downing it quickly.

“What? My new security man?”, Yoongi nodded, “I’m sorry.”

They drank another shot, Jimin slightly gagging at the liquor. The atmosphere was thick with sorrow for some reason.

“Anyway, as you can tell, I got worried a lot. Constantly thought about you, how I could make friends with you. I want to help, I really do. You seemed so in agony.”

“Now you know why I am.”, whispers Yoongi, trying to get behind what Jimin was working up to.

“You have my number, right?”

“Well, yeah. I do.”

“Mind calling me tomorrow? I’m free tomorrow, and I would like to talk.”

“What makes you think I want to?”

“I believe you don’t. But I sense you need to.”

Yoongi props his head on his hands.

“I guess.”

“So, you’ll call me?”

“I guess.”

“And I guess I’ll leave you alone for now, sorry if I was being intruding. I… I don’t want to let you go without knowing my intentions.”

“Okay.”

Jimin then gets up, returns to his shift and serves the customers. A regular night settles in then, people coming and leaving, conversations and jokes made. Jimin brings Yoongi two beers before he leaves after a while, little smile on his lips as he meets Jimin’s eyes one last time before going.

Jimin feels mixed things when he thinks back to his conversation with Yoongi, when he’s home in bed later that night.

He feels like he gave Yoongi the feeling that he pitied him, though he didn’t. He really didn’t, he was just trying to help him ease the pain.

Nonetheless, he feels happy that he convinced Yoongi to call him the next day.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jimin tossed around in his bed feeling torn, he felt somewhat guilty to force himself in Yoongi’s life, though the widower had other things to worry about. In his tired and somewhat drunk mind last night, however, he thought it would distract Yoongi and benefit him. Now that he was sober and had slept enough, he knew how bad Yoongi must have felt about this. He swears that he needs to apologize to the raven-haired man as soon as he calls.

Firstly, he showers, though, singing along to the music his new weekly mix is showing him. It was Monday.

Jimin was just patting his legs dry when his phone started ringing, so he did what he had to do and ran through his apartment naked, catching the phone on its probably last ring.

“Park Jimin here?”, breathes Jimin, audibly out of breath.

“Hey, uh, it’s Yoongi. Were you running?”, he sounds tired.

“No, yes, I was showering and came to grab my phone”, laughs Jimin.

“Oh, I see. Should I get back later to you?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m just getting dressed.”

“oh. Okay.”

“How are you feeling, Yoongi?”, Jimin presses the speaker and places his phone down, starts getting dressed as he listens carefully.

“Kinda lightheaded I guess, vodka is not the best for me.”

Jimin giggles.

“Yeah, me neither. But it was good as it lasted.”

“Yeah, I came to that conclusion around a week ago.”

Jimin needs a second to realize what Yoongi meant.

“Will you tell me about him?”

Silence.

Silence, that nagged at Jimin, making him feel so incredibly dumb for saying something so insensitive when his husband died just a few weeks ago.

“Not over the phone, if that’s fine.”

Relieve.

“I was actually thinking about taking you out today? Maybe go and grab some ice cream?”, Jimin smiles though Yoongi can’t see him smiling.

“Ice cream?”, Yoongi sounds so unbelieving of everything good in this world.

“Yeah. It’s hot outside.”, Jimin takes a look at the tablet caved into the wall in his hallway, his smart home connected to it. It was 25 degrees Celsius today.

“I guess.”

There it was again.

“Can I meet you in an hour in the park at the café?”, he smiles again encouragingly, even though they weren’t facetiming.

“I will be there.”, Jimin couldn’t make out which emotion Yoongi’s voice was holding.

“I’m glad. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

He hangs up, takes a deep breath, stares at his phone, feels conflicted, all in one second.

If he could take this man’s pain away all at once, he would. He would.

And it was scary for him to think about the fact that he thought this way after knowing Min Yoongi for about a week. It wasn’t his place to feel this way, yet he did.

He cleaned his kitchen a little before slipping his shoes on, flinging the door open and leaving after patting his pockets down to make sure he had everything he needed.

He walked to their venue, playing with his phone until the man he was waiting for arrived.

In the daytime he looked a little less sorrowful, which made Jimin take a minute to appreciate his looks. He looked young, though it seems like had not taken proper care of himself, which he probably did not indeed, he was dressed nicely and with a hint of cologne swarming around him it was easy to make out from what status this man was profiting.

“Hello, come, sit down.”, smiles Jimin, pushing a chair out for the other man to sit.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a lovely weather, isn’t it? And I had a feeling you forgot to enjoy things like this, so I wanted to take you out.”

Yoongi smiles a little then.

“Thank you.”

“The sun still shines, you know. It’s not any… darker out here.”

“Out here not, I believe.”, snorts Yoongi.” You sound like the dumb quotes I read on stupid cards I don’t want to receive, yet I do. Every damn day, Jimin. Can you imagine?”

Jimin looks at him silently, shaking his head.

“Hello, what can I get you?”

Jimin jumps a little when the waiter suddenly appeared next to them.

Yoongi chuckles just a little.

“Not funny.”, comments Jimin with a playful glare, turning to the waiter.

“Uh, I’ll have two scoops of lemon ice cream and an iced chocolate to drink, please.”

He nods, scribbles the order down.

“Uh, one iced coffee. Plain. And two scoops of mint ice cream, please.”

“Sure, I’ll be back in a second.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks.”

Silence.

“I wake up, thinking ‘Oh, today will be better’ and I open my letterbox to find other dumb cards, people telling me they’re sorry and that I can come and visit whenever I feel like it.”

Jimin furrows his eyebrows. It must be unbearable, agonizing even.

“You are the first person, after my best friend Hoseok, to actually drag me outside. And I, being in my current situation, find that this is the only way to help, actually. I can’t distract myself, you know? I would never come across the thought ‘Oh, I might go over to my aunt’s today, since she’s offered it to me so nicely after Kihyun’s death’ – you know what I mean?”

Jimin notes that his husbands name was Kihyun. He wonders what Kihyun was like.

“I do, actually. It’s why I asked you to come out instead of offering you to hit me up when you feel like it. You wouldn’t feel like it, ever, that’s why.”

“Exactly.”, agrees Yoongi, wondering why Jimin knew him so well. Or, moreover, why he knew what helped if someone was in grieve.

“Have you ever lost someone dear to your heart, Jimin?”, Yoongi can’t help but ask.

Jimin waits to answer, the waiter returning with their orders.

“Thank you”, Jimin says shortly before the waiter leaves, telling them to enjoy their ice cream.

He drinks some of his chocolate, the cold beverage running down his throat nicely. Something was off, he was feeling too hot. Maybe it was simply because he had to answer Yoongi, still.

“I lost my parents.”, says Jimin, cracking half a smile, meeting Yoongi’s eyes.

“How so?”

“Car accident. They died on instant.”

“It’s a good way to die, if they didn’t hurt then.”

“I agree.”

“You seem so collected about it.”, wonders Yoongi.

“It’s been over ten years.”

“How old are you, Jimin?”

“I’m 25. How old are you, though? You seem so young.”

“I’m 28.”

“When did you marry?”

“We married when I was 21, we were so young and in love.”, chuckles Yoongi, taking a sip of his coffee.

“What happened to him?”, Jimin’s question is barely audible, he barely manages to sound the whispered question out, doubts that Yoongi is fine with talking about it.

“He was a drug addict.”

Jimin’s head shot up.

“He had it from his mom, she died early in his childhood due to an overdosis. I guess addictions do run in the family after all.”, Yoongi smiles hollowly, his eyes so fucking empty that Jimin could feel the coldness seeping through them. Yoongi must feel as bad as he did back then, Jimin would never want to think back and try to feel those things again.

Pain so numbing it made him unable to move for days, left him in his bed, barely breathing.

“Yoongi, can I… Can I hug you?”, he presses. He feels the need to ever since he saw him at work, trotting in with this agony surrounding him, clinging to his tired frame.

“You… well, yeah.”

Jimin does not hesitate, springs up, runs over and flings his arms around Yoongi’s neck, presses him so, so fucking close he fears that Yoongi can’t breathe.

He can’t really, but it’s not bothering him right now. Yoongi feels like he this much needed hug fixed something in him, not majorly, but it did relief some of the agony in his heart.

Jimin eventually let’s go of him, Yoongi stares at him expressionless, Jimin then wiping at his cheeks.

He did not even realize he was crying, after all these panic attacks, anxiety attacks and crying fits he had gone through the last weeks.

“Thank you.”, murmured Yoongi with a watery voice, clearing his throat before carrying on with eating.

“You’re welcome, Yoongi.”, he sits again, also eating.

“We can go and annoy the ducks in the park if you want to.”, Jimin then suggests, making it sound like a typical activity.

Yoongi laughs out, his spoon clinging loudly against his glass of coffee.

“How are you so random?”, he chuckles.

“I told you, I make the mess work.”, smiles Jimin cheekily.

Yoongi finds that this also meant the mess he currently was. He liked the purpose of a way of coping. A way to feel alright again. A way to wake up, breathe and not immediately cry over the empty space next to him. A way to accept, live, forget, move on, find himself, feel okay.

Yoongi and Jimin finish their ice creams.

“Let’s go and annoy some ducks, then.”, says Yoongi after paying, insisting on paying for Jimin’s order, too, just a way of thanking him for his way of being there.

They leave then, strolling through the park, not talking but the silence comfortable around them. Jimin enjoying the thought that Yoongi wasn’t alone, was walking around in the sun and he was with him. Yoongi enjoying Jimin’s company – contrary to the first times in the bar – and feeling somewhat good in the warm sunlight. He felt alive and that was an improvement.

“Found them on the lake!”, squeals Jimin, once he has spotted the ducks, making Yoongi jump slightly.

He chuckles then, “Guess then we can’t really do anything to them.”

Jimin furrows his eyebrows.

“What a shame.”, he laughs lightly.

“What else is there to do? We could rent some bikes and make a tour! With picnicking, how does that sound?”, Jimin looks at Yoongi expectantly, his face lit up with the idea and the happy glow that surrounds Jimin actually lights a fire in Yoongi, one that had been blown weeks ago when he found his husband of seven years lying on the floor, needle still in his arm.

Yoongi’s eyes water a little, worrying Jimin slightly, making him touch Yoongi’s arm.

“Yeah, we can do that.”, presses Yoongi, forcing a smile.

These weren’t sad tears, but Jimin didn’t know. He felt bad.

“I’m sorry if it seems like I want to… I don’t know, take you out while you still grieve over your husband…”, starts Jimin, only to be cut off by Yoongi, placing his finger on Jimin’s lips.

“Hush, will you? I enjoy this day with you, very much, Jimin. Let’s continue this without Kihyun, yeah?”, he chokes a little as he says his ex-lovers name, the idea of leaving Kihyun behind still aching his heart, though Yoongi knew it was the right thing to do, after all.

“He’s not coming back.”, adds Yoongi then, making Jimin whimper and draw Yoongi close once again, hugging him even tighter than before, now that they were standing as they hugged.

Yoongi hugged him back, arms circled around the man pressed against his chest, heart pounding ever so fast.

“But I’ll be here, Yoongi.’, whispers Jimin.

“I know”, retorts Yoongi, pulling him a little closer, burying his head in Jimin’s shoulder. “I’m glad.”

Yoongi was so glad google maps directed him into Jimin’s bar one week ago, when he drove into the city after deciding he couldn’t bear to stay indoors anymore. Any other bar and he might have never met Jimin, any other bar and he might have missed the chance to get help on his way out of the hole he was currently in.

**Author's Note:**

> Sob with me. Sorry if any of you came here to read something about Kihyun, I hope my tagging wasn't misleading!
> 
> Thank u <3


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